Post by Alanna Craft on Jun 5, 2009 23:41:42 GMT -6
Name: Dr. Gregorio DaVinci
Nickname(s): None.
Age: 23
Gender: Male
Affiliation: GeneCo Employee
Personality: Dr. Davinci is an artist. He looks at the world and wants to shape it in the image he sees in his mind as perfect. And he is such a perfectionist... regarding others. He never sees himself as conducting any fault, or of doing any wrong. Anything he touches, he believes, becomes a masterpiece under his skillful fingers. The horrifying thing is, for the most part, he's right.
Family: Both of Dr. Davinci's parents are dead thanks to the recent pandemic. They had been doting and appreciative parents, encouraging their son to refine his art to the exquisite skill that it is today.
Character Likes: Art, himself, Zydrate, champagne, and scalpels.
Character Dislikes: Disorder, coffee, Repomen/women, and appearing less than pristine at any given moment.
Model Claim: Don't know the man's name.
Appearance or Pictures: Dr. DaVinci chooses to wear only the finest clothes to complement his perfectly sculpted visage. He wears his hair in perfectly organized disarray and uses just enough makeup to highlight the only truly natural aspect of his face, his eyes.
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cdn.buzznet.com/assets/users16/heartoffenix/default/ville-valo-sexy-man--large-msg-12034617367.jpg [/img]
Background: Dr. DaVinci's family claims to be direct descendants of the great Leonardo DaVinci. They may or may not be correct, but who would bother to question them? Only the Largos care about lineage anymore it seems, since a person can litterally buy the blood of anyone in the world and get it pumping through their veins. Regardless, art has always been a part of Dr. DaVinci's life.
He had been born with mediocre features and a mediocre body. Even his organs were mediocre, one of his kidneys and his pancreas failing shortly after he finished medical school. He quickly signed a contract with GeneCo as a SurGen, using the benefits package to replace his failing organs and to sculpt his face into his perfect image...
He didn't use someone else's face. No face was good enough. Instead, practically every aspect of his visage was reconstructed from parts just the way he wanted it. He slipped his SurGen a bribe so as to keep from having any scars. Now only the most perceptive can tell that he had any work at all done. He still longs to feel Zydrate pumping through his veins again, but not at the risk of ruining his precious exterior with another surgery. Sometimes, though, he can be seen tumbing over the tiny scar on his bicep, gazing in the distance, lost in thought.
With his new position at GeneCo he became renowned for his surgical skill and his aesthetic eye. He can replace an organ or modify any physical aspect effortlessly, often without leaving a scar. He takes such pride in his work that one could almost call it hubris. He turns away anyone who comes back for more, refusing to indulge the weak who let their need for chemicals cloud their sense of aesthetics.
His parents, for example, didn't realize how good they had it. If they had just accepted the images he had molded them into, they would not have taken the tainted batches of Zydrate that caused their deaths. Dr. DaVinci refuses to believe that their deaths were his fault, even though he operated on them without their consent.
Lately his need to perfect the images of others has become quite twisted. There isn't a soul on the street who he doesn't think needs some of his signature manipulation. He knows he can make this rancid city beautiful, one person at a time.
Roleplay Sample: It didn't rain very much anymore. Clouds were in the sky, but they were mostly smog and the stench of death. Still, for the sake of poetry, one could describe the weather as 'gloomy,' though 'bleak' was certainly the better term. Either way, it was much too dark for tinted windows, which was only one odd factor about the long red car. It was an elegant piece of machinery- not quite a limousine, but far too bulky to be a sports car and far too elegant to be a simple sedan. It was a shocking mix of red paint, silver trim, and black tinted windows.
Most shocking of all was where it stopped. It pulled into the circular drive at GeneCo's main entrance and parked there, it's engine rumbling to a halt. The drive was too narrow to park there, intended perhaps to ward off extended visits or perhaps really only there for show.
A woman sat in the back seat. She was fair skined and had elegant auburn curls covering her neck and the right side of her face. She was dressed in a pristine grey dress-suit with delicate red pinstripes and a decadent looking red satin blouse. The skirt crept up her thighs where she sat, exposing only a few inches above her knee, where long grey boots hid and yet accented her calves. She was touching up her makeup with a small hand-mirror.
"We've stopped. Can I assume that we've finally arrived, My Sweet?" She clapped her mirror closed and narrowed her visible blue eye. "If I am late for my appointment, I shall be most displeased."
Nickname(s): None.
Age: 23
Gender: Male
Affiliation: GeneCo Employee
Personality: Dr. Davinci is an artist. He looks at the world and wants to shape it in the image he sees in his mind as perfect. And he is such a perfectionist... regarding others. He never sees himself as conducting any fault, or of doing any wrong. Anything he touches, he believes, becomes a masterpiece under his skillful fingers. The horrifying thing is, for the most part, he's right.
Family: Both of Dr. Davinci's parents are dead thanks to the recent pandemic. They had been doting and appreciative parents, encouraging their son to refine his art to the exquisite skill that it is today.
Character Likes: Art, himself, Zydrate, champagne, and scalpels.
Character Dislikes: Disorder, coffee, Repomen/women, and appearing less than pristine at any given moment.
Model Claim: Don't know the man's name.
Appearance or Pictures: Dr. DaVinci chooses to wear only the finest clothes to complement his perfectly sculpted visage. He wears his hair in perfectly organized disarray and uses just enough makeup to highlight the only truly natural aspect of his face, his eyes.
Background: Dr. DaVinci's family claims to be direct descendants of the great Leonardo DaVinci. They may or may not be correct, but who would bother to question them? Only the Largos care about lineage anymore it seems, since a person can litterally buy the blood of anyone in the world and get it pumping through their veins. Regardless, art has always been a part of Dr. DaVinci's life.
He had been born with mediocre features and a mediocre body. Even his organs were mediocre, one of his kidneys and his pancreas failing shortly after he finished medical school. He quickly signed a contract with GeneCo as a SurGen, using the benefits package to replace his failing organs and to sculpt his face into his perfect image...
He didn't use someone else's face. No face was good enough. Instead, practically every aspect of his visage was reconstructed from parts just the way he wanted it. He slipped his SurGen a bribe so as to keep from having any scars. Now only the most perceptive can tell that he had any work at all done. He still longs to feel Zydrate pumping through his veins again, but not at the risk of ruining his precious exterior with another surgery. Sometimes, though, he can be seen tumbing over the tiny scar on his bicep, gazing in the distance, lost in thought.
With his new position at GeneCo he became renowned for his surgical skill and his aesthetic eye. He can replace an organ or modify any physical aspect effortlessly, often without leaving a scar. He takes such pride in his work that one could almost call it hubris. He turns away anyone who comes back for more, refusing to indulge the weak who let their need for chemicals cloud their sense of aesthetics.
His parents, for example, didn't realize how good they had it. If they had just accepted the images he had molded them into, they would not have taken the tainted batches of Zydrate that caused their deaths. Dr. DaVinci refuses to believe that their deaths were his fault, even though he operated on them without their consent.
Lately his need to perfect the images of others has become quite twisted. There isn't a soul on the street who he doesn't think needs some of his signature manipulation. He knows he can make this rancid city beautiful, one person at a time.
Roleplay Sample: It didn't rain very much anymore. Clouds were in the sky, but they were mostly smog and the stench of death. Still, for the sake of poetry, one could describe the weather as 'gloomy,' though 'bleak' was certainly the better term. Either way, it was much too dark for tinted windows, which was only one odd factor about the long red car. It was an elegant piece of machinery- not quite a limousine, but far too bulky to be a sports car and far too elegant to be a simple sedan. It was a shocking mix of red paint, silver trim, and black tinted windows.
Most shocking of all was where it stopped. It pulled into the circular drive at GeneCo's main entrance and parked there, it's engine rumbling to a halt. The drive was too narrow to park there, intended perhaps to ward off extended visits or perhaps really only there for show.
A woman sat in the back seat. She was fair skined and had elegant auburn curls covering her neck and the right side of her face. She was dressed in a pristine grey dress-suit with delicate red pinstripes and a decadent looking red satin blouse. The skirt crept up her thighs where she sat, exposing only a few inches above her knee, where long grey boots hid and yet accented her calves. She was touching up her makeup with a small hand-mirror.
"We've stopped. Can I assume that we've finally arrived, My Sweet?" She clapped her mirror closed and narrowed her visible blue eye. "If I am late for my appointment, I shall be most displeased."
